


At the End of All Things

by die_traumerei



Series: Castle Terra [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bittersweet, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Death from Old Age, Elegy, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Heaven, Hopeful Ending, Old Age, Sad with a Happy Ending, Trans Crowley (Good Omens), but a nice heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: The last day of Crowley's life is a beautiful one.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Castle Terra [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801759
Comments: 30
Kudos: 60





	At the End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> So I understand that this story might not be for everyone, and please skip it if you just can't right now, or ever. But I always sort of knew how their lives would end, and I wanted to write it down a little bit. And some of what comes after :)
> 
> (Also this is NOT the end of the series! Still got tons more to write! But it's been long done, so I wanted to post it.)

Crowley woke up slow. She often did these days, and wasn't ashamed of it either. Live as long as she had, and she reckoned anyone would take their time waking up.

This was one of the good days, too. It would never feel right waking up alone, never feel good, but the ache where her angel's arms should be wasn't there. The loneliness was all right; a good old friend now. She'd had practice losing people, after all. Her parents all those years ago, when she was just a girl. Her aunt and uncle – well, she knew it unlikely to outlive them. Her Chae, her Asha, her beloved friends among the castle folk and in other places. Her family, patchworked together of people who loved her. And her Aziraphale, just over three years ago now, freed from pain and illness as soft as anyone could ever want. At least her angel had died easy, held in Crowley's arms and loved to the last.

“Miss you,” Crowley whispered to the pillow. Of course she still talked to Aziraphale. She'd talked to Aziraphale every day for over sixty years. Why stop now? Besides, she was an old lady, she could be weird if she wanted to.

She stayed cuddled under the duvet, wrapped around a pillow and daydreaming a little of her silly girl. (Always her girl, even as an old lady. Always.) Of one of the last times they'd left the castle together, Aziraphale slow on two sticks but very firm that she was going to make it all the way to a much-loved copse in the woods, because she wanted to have sex outside one last time. Lord only knew how they'd got to the ground, but it was a glorious late-summer afternoon, and if it was to be their last, they were going to do it properly. Crowley's jaw had ached for two days after, but her honey had screamed and wailed and moaned and it had been _delicious_.

(It wasn't, actually, their last time. Admittedly, they had to wait for a very dark night, but Aziraphale's wheelchair went out onto the parapet by the Library just fine, and they  _could_ make love quietly, if they really wanted to.)

Crowley smiled, remembering sweet things, lost a little in mischief. Aziraphale had still been the Librarian then, with Crowley to help her reach books high up. Her mind had been sharp as a tack until the day she died, a thing Crowley was never not grateful for.

Well, enough daydreaming; it was time to rise and dress and breakfast, slipping on a lovely gown that Aziraphale had embroidered, shoes that Chae had given her, and tying the gown with a belt Asha had made for her so many years ago. She felt wrapped in love; bittersweet, because she missed them every day, but comforted too. She kept things people had made her until they were worn to threads, and then kept the threads. Physical evidence couldn't be refuted; Crowley had been beloved.

Goodness, she was lost in her head! She shook herself a little, and finished her breakfast, savouring the good food. They'd really got lucky with cooks, here in Terra.

After eating, she dressed and slipped on a light cloak and made to leave for her morning walk. It had been Aziraphale's and she liked to wear it, snuggle into it. It wasn't anything like being hugged by her wife, but it was comforting and soft, and it was nice to have around. And anyway, it was perfect for taking a little ramble on a spring day.

This time of year the gardens were busy, so Crowley moved carefully, keeping out of the gardeners' way, but taking the sunshine and admiring the land about to burst into bud and bloom and fruit. She greeted those she was friendly with, and nodded to everyone else, but kept moving. They didn't have time to chat, and she found she liked her own company best these days.

It seemed a bit cruel; Aziraphale's hips had grown worse and worse, the old damage to the bone and muscle, and what she'd had to do to make up for it, stealing her strength and mobility until she couldn't walk at all. Meanwhile Crowley was as light-footed and graceful as ever. It should have been more fair, that perhaps they'd both need a stick or two, but her lass could have kept running around til the end. Well, no one had ever promised her fair.

Crowley tilted her head back, smiling into the sun as she left the gardens and walked on pastured land. Her hair was as thick as ever, though gone pure white, and she kept it a bit shorter than when she was young. The heavy braid fell down her back, and she smiled at its weight. So much had changed, and so much really, really hadn't.

There weren't any flowers to be picked, so she visited the small graveyard empty-handed, and apologized to the big, flat stone that covered the vault where Aziraphale lay, and where Crowley would lie too, beside her for eternity.

“Hullo, love. I miss you. It's beautiful today.” Crowley knelt by the stone easily, tracing the letters carved so deep. “Going to have lunch with Adelia. Bless her, I think she likes me. Must be some madness they teach you lot at the guild – be nice to the madwoman who wanders around the castle or somesuch.” Crowley smiled, and squinted into the sun. “D'you know, this feels exactly like that time Asha came to visit – remember? She was delivering some books or other that she wanted you to repair, and we spent a week outside with her every moment of the day and half the night, just drinking in the spring. We found that oak and all of us climbed it, and it was such fun to be up high with the wind and the leaves coming out, and oh, it was so lovely.” Crowley smiled, remembering. They hadn't been young, exactly, but they'd been strong and spry and drunk on spring and each other. It had been a lovely visit.

“Think I'll skip climbing it this year,” she confided. “Not as fun alone. More fun to remember.” She tapped the stone. “I love you with all of me, angel. I wonder if you can hear me, where you are?” She chuckled. “Probably wishing this old bag would stop talking to you and let you enjoy Heaven. I'm not sorry in the least, for the record. Give my love to Asha and Chae and Madame, and everyone else. I adore you. I'll visit again soon.” And Crowley levered herself up, continuing her walk, meandering the grounds of the castle until she grew tired, and went inside to rest until lunch.

Adelia had arrived not a year before Aziraphale passed away; she really had worked nearly until the end. She was sweet and bubbly, and had been quite firm from the start that it was her Library now, and she would remake it in her image. Crowley and Aziraphale had loved her from the moment she arrived, and had also known enough to stay out of her way and make sure she had absolutely free rein.

Even now she sometimes looked like she expected to be scolded for changing something up, but Crowley knew it didn't work that way, and held her peace. Besides, she was genuinely a good Librarian and, as someone who had spent years running between the stacks to get this book or that, Crowley frankly approved of some of her changes, and made sure to tell her so.

Adelia had been unbelievably gentle in the days after Aziraphale's death, that cloud of time that Crowley still didn't entirely remember, when she had wandered numb and lost and truly having no idea how to  _be_ when it was just her. Adelia had written to Asha, and gently herded Crowley to meals, and had simply sat with her for long hours before the fire while she conceived of a world forever transformed.

She remembered a little more about when Asha had arrived, so close to her own end – but those were memories for other times, not for lovely spring days, and lunch with a sweet, interesting companion. They were genuinely friends now, and Crowley was glad for it. The Library would be in very good hands for the next however-many decades.

Lunch had left her strangely tired; probably all the laughing, she reckoned, and the castle gossip. Adelia had got a new book in and promised to come by after supper and read to Crowley. Usually she knitted, but Crowley reckoned she was tired enough she might just sit and enjoy the story, warming her toes by the fire.

Afternoons were sometimes hard. For whatever reason, she felt loneliest then, and often tried to fill her time looking after a child or two, or perhaps working at her weaving. She was so tired today, though, Crowley figured she'd earned a nap, and lay down on her bed, sighing at how soft and big it was, with just her in it. She fell asleep quickly, not wanting to stay awake with her memories and her sadness, a giant ball of mourning that she always carried with her.

Crowley slept deeply; she wasn't sure for how long. It turned out not to matter anyway. She felt someone sit on the edge of the bed and stroke her hair back out of her face, and smiled. “'Zira?”

“I told you, I don't like nicknames, demoness.”

Crowley's smile grew, though she didn't open her eyes yet. “Aziraphale. I had the most awful dream.”

“Oh? Poor love.” That soft, soft body easing down beside her, pulling her into a hug, Crowley resting her head on a perfect bosom. 

“It was awful. We grew old together – I mean, that's not the awful part. That was the best part. But then you died, and I was alone.”

“My poor girl.” A soft kiss. “You're not alone anymore.”

Crowley finally opened her eye and  _oh_ , there was Aziraphale, young again. Maybe even younger than when she'd come to Terra. She was smiling, merry and sweet, and giggled at whatever she saw in Crowley's face. “Hullo, darling. I'm sorry I had to go. I've missed you so, so much.”

“Oh,” Crowley breathed, and reached up to kiss her, and how had she lived without these kisses? “Am I dead?” she murmured, nosing down to the soft of Aziraphale's throat. Good girl, she was as chubby as ever; well-fed and healthy and strong.

“I'm afraid so, love. Just a few moments ago. Does anything hurt?” Aziraphale asked anxiously. “It was your heart, you know. Poor thing.”

“Poor thing my arse.” Crowley snorted and sat up and oh, she was young too. She smiled and looked down at herself, and touched her stomach. “No, angel, nothing hurts. I feel wonderful. I missed you. Could you hear me talking to you?” She went back into Aziraphale's arms, snuggling so sweetly. The aches of ageing were gone; she'd never felt so good, even when she was young! 

“I could, darling, every time. My poor Crowley.” She looked stricken for a moment. “I _am_ sorry I had to leave you. My poor body...” she sighed and shook her head. “I'm so sorry. I love you. You know that, right? How much I love you, how hard it was to leave...”

“Shhh, I know. It's all right. We're together again.” Crowley smiled shyly. “I mean, I assume so. Or am I to go to Hell while you get your reward?”

“That's not funny!” Aziraphale was laughing though, even as she swatted Crowley. “I got special permission to come get you, you dockle. Usually it's the angel of death, but they said I could come and ease you out of the world, seeing as we had entwined souls. We're bound for eternity, demon.”

Crowley's grin grew. “Oh, Aziraphale. Is...can we see....?”

“Asha is going to find a way to murder me if I don't take you to see her this instant, yes,” Aziraphale said dryly, and they giggled together, and kissed, and kissed again.

“Are you ready to go?” Aziraphale asked gently. “We can linger a little if you need to. Oh, you're so beautiful.” They were standing by the bed now, looking down at Crowley's body.

“Poor old thing,” Crowley said softly. “You never asked for...anything that happened to you, actually.” She smiled and touched her own face. “Aziraphale,” she said quietly. “I think I can...I can decide what I want my body to look like. Now.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said softly. “It's all you, demoness. Whatever you pick. I'll love you with all my heart.”

Crowley smiled. She'd work it out in time. It might be fun to have a vagina. And it would  _definitely_ be fun to have breasts, although she might need to clear a week of all plans before she started experimenting with that. “C'mon, angel. Let's go. It was a bloody good life, wasn't it?”

“The best,” Aziraphale agreed. “Even with everything that happened to us, it was the best.” And she kissed Crowley's knuckles, and they turned, and walked away from the castle, and into eternity together.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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